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Writing: Bodega Bay

He walks the beach
Looking into the ocean
A sadness creeps across his face.
Thoughts of years gone by
Without memory of them are brought to the forefront of his mind.
 
The sky is clear and clean
Not like some of his thoughts
From present times.
The clarity is only as good
As the distant fog bank is thick.
 
His dreams are not his reality.
Though the reality had its highs and lows,
If he could only change one thing.
And then only grudgingly so.
 
Where has the forgotten past gone?
Yesterday held promise.
Good times.
A life to fulfill
The possibilities,
Oh the possibilities.
 
Part of the dreams were made into reality.
He loved deeply,
The road to those in need.
The engineer, and the salesman.
The Father.
 
He belongs to no real group of no bearings.
In the process he found Angels and the Devil,
But he lost his specific belief.
They mentored him into being an evil person.
 
He continues to seek out
That which he doesn’t understand.
It is his burden to find the knowledge,
Of himself, His world,
And the people in it.
 
He is alone, but not lonely.
Though not a hermit, he stays back some.
Reserving himself for nobody and
Someone special.
For many a year
Emotional pain has been his constant companion
Yet he survives.
 
His pains are his own.
And yet he remembers very few
That while they are evil in nature
Are just hints of what is underneath.
 
He carry’s the deaths of others.
In some instances, those of the Devil,
He feels like he has turned into him
The trusted nothings of evil that he confides in,
Or, that of the kindly Tecate Priest.
 
Male friends are coming back
But rarely give enough needed
Help
Even though they were the ones to ask.
So, he is the friendly ear.
 
What happened to the dreams?
The surf continues to lap the beach.
His beach.
The sun worshipers are out.
The couples are strolling.
Why has he stopped at this point?
 
The ocean and its air
Beckons to him.
Draws him to thoughts of her
But, he resists the urge.
It is not the draw he desires,
Or the outcome he wants.
The surf is persistent.
Much like the gentle hands of her past touches.
And he continues his walk.
 
The past thoughts of what he desired
Of his life come forward again.
To be a great inventor engineer, only to be
Dissuaded by dreams of love.
To do anything but.
To be an athletic referee only to be put
Down for the dream.
 
Opportunities had and lost.
Some to traces of fear,
Bad timing or,
Bad judgement on his part.
 
The noise of the video games and the boardwalk
Assault him and his senses.
He is drawn back to earth but for a second.
He sees and feels the enjoyment of others
Around him.
But He doesn’t feel it
Never has really.
 
It is hard for him to enjoy the feeling of
Joy that a ride brings.
It is claustrophobic for him.
While being in the open
His agitation begins to show and
He speeds up to get away.
His heart slows
His chest eases.
He is away, safe on “his” beach again.
 
The warmth of the sun
Is gentle to him.
It is like a blanket that conveys love from above.
A gentle spirit to
Reinforce the calm.
 
What has he done in this life?
Who is he really?
Why are the memories gone?
How will he remember them?
Does it matter, really?
Will she miss him?
 
Will she miss him?
Is that what really is bothering him?
He is not a young man by the young
Peoples standards.
Nor is he old by the elderly standards.
His mantra of “you are only old when you die” is valid.
Until then you are still young.
 
He is tired,
He became this.
He brought this on.
It is time to move on.
His beach is his escape from
Life and is a burden itself.
It won’t release him to move on to a new beach.
She continues to hold his heart and soul.
He desires to seek out a new beach but feels
He would be cheating on “his” beach.
 
It is emotional blackmail.
He knows it is only sand, water and tides.
Why she draws him is bafflement.
She is safe now for some reason.
 
He looks back over time and sees where he has
Walked from.
His footsteps are washed away.
The vision of where he started is not clear.
He has an opportunity to move on.
There is nothing holding him here.
She has shown him as a murderer and torturer.
But he desires only to be blamed for his weaknesses.
 
The old young man sees possibilities and the
Reality of promise.
He can move on now.
The strength will come.
Changes are just that, changes.
Trust in others is evil
But in oneself is unnerving.
But it will occur.
 
He is calmer now.
The surf laps at his feet
And says “you are welcome”.
And he smiles.

(2015)

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